Old Dog New Tricks
by Lapis Love
Summary: The can of worms that can open when you shave a resurrected agent with a cutthroat razor. Who knew grooming could be fun? For Eve it was part of the job, however, shaking off the part of her that is attracted to James Bond is proving to be much more difficult. Lucky for her, she's not alone. (Skyfall Bond/Moneypenny)


**A/N: This is for those who loved the chemistry between Naomi Harris and Daniel Craig who wish to see it played out some more. I understand that Ms. Harris didn't want to be the typical Bond girl and I can respect that…*clears throat* but EYE wanted to see those two go balls to the wall. Anyways, this is a "fluffy" one-shot attempt of wish fulfillment. If Moneypenny/Bond pairing is not your thing, please don't read this and proceed to tell me it's not your thing. To those who are here for this, enjoy!**

Disclaimer: I disclaim ownership of the characters but the plot is all mine. Copyright infringement is not intended.

She heard what happened to Fields, a slew of others, and the major one Vesper Lend. The running joke, which was no joke at all, was that Bond girls had a shorter life expectancy than a double O. When she received her assignment that she would be shadowing James Bond in Istanbul, Eve Moneypenny saw it as an opportunity to prove herself. If she could hang with the likes of the legendary agent and survive, it meant she was more than qualified to handle solo jobs and be just as effective.

This job was not gender blind. There was sexism and biases that ran blood deep and some male agents who refused to partner with a woman citing them as distractions and damsels in the making. To those close-minded individuals Eve said, to hell with them.

The risks had been explained to her again and again, but the implicit message was: if you value your life, don't fall for James's charm. Who would have thought that it would be Bond who needed to be warned.

Eve still had flashbacks of sending a military grade bullet into Bond. Seeing him fall from atop a train and falling some three hundred feet to his presumed death. The bullet should have killed him, and if it didn't the fall certainly should have, and if he managed to survive that, hitting the river at such a velocity should have done the job irrevocably.

That day James Bond proved to be superhuman or immortal.

Eve had voluntarily relieved herself of field work, content to work a desk job in the relative safety of MI-6 headquarters. No one blamed her, or said it was her fault; she was just following orders and shooting a moving target was harder than one that was immobile. She hadn't exactly been seeking absolution, but wouldn't have turned it down either. No agent wanted to have it on record that they killed another agent especially one that hadn't gone rogue.

Months passed, Eve got on with her life as a glorified research analyst and then was promoted to assist Garreth Mallory as the prime minister was pushing for M's retirement. She formed relationships outside of work that kept her grounded and appreciative of what she had and then in walked a ghost.

She followed that ghost to Shanghai. To deliver a message that could have been relayed over a secured phone line. But since they were dealing with someone who could hack satellites, Eve figured delivering the news in person would be best.

She had been tested and tempted, but Eve remembered prior agents and women during his assignments that Bond had one night with and the next day they were dead.

"Why are you even thinking about this, girl?" Eve exasperated with herself flung her wet hands she just finished washing and twisted the handles of the faucet to shut the water off.

Makeup removed she eyed her reflection. Her lids shuttered closed. She gripped the nape of her neck, bit into her bottom lip. The adrenaline from the casino shootout had not drained completely from her system. Gunpowder, ash, the hiss of the komodo dragons it shuffled through her mind like cards. In the center of it all was her near and on purpose collision with Bond who looked exquisite in his tuxedo. She swore suits were invented just for him. Did he really need a license to kill when his charisma was potent enough to stop a heart?

"Great," Eve breathed out in frustration. She was officially crushing. Not that it mattered or could go anywhere. Agents weren't discouraged from forming attachments; however it was definitely frowned upon. Now wasn't the time anyways. Her fellow agents were being outed and executed. That took precedence over everything else.

Besides, Bond was a playboy. Could he be labeled a womanizer if he didn't make any promises? Eve wasn't too sure about that, but what she did know was she felt fluttery when he was around though she applauded herself for not giving her attraction away. Bond hadn't made it any easier. Standing too close, talking in her ear, unfastening her blouse as she shaved him with a cutthroat razor, calling her beautiful. The nerve!

She laughed then, finished her nightly bed routine, and left the bathroom.

A knock sounded on her door. Brow creasing, Eve grabbed her gun, and eased her way through the living room.

She peeked through the peephole but still waited a beat or two before throwing open the door. "We've got to stop meeting like this."

James, haggard in appearance and a little bloody, leaned against the doorjamb like a picture frame. He guffawed. "I swear I'm not doing this on purpose."

"Aren't you supposed to be on a boat seducing the villain's flavor of the month to get information on his or hers whereabouts?"

"I was getting to that, trust me."

"So why are you here?"

"I wanted to make sure you were all right."

"Aren't you sweet? Seriously, Bond…" Eve moved closer to him ignoring the faint hint of his aftershave that was barely discernible from his sweat. She looked down both ends of the hallway before pulling him inside her suite. "As you can see I'm fine. You're wasting valuable time doubling back to check up on me. I'm a big girl…" her next words were cut off when Bond reached for her, wrapping his arms around her waist. She stiffened. "What are you do—"

"Listen to me very carefully," Bond whispered in her ear.

Eve, confused, listened. Her feet started shuffling backwards because Bond was maneuvering her toward the living room, the couch in particular. She was processing everything he was saying but she was also focusing on her body's reaction to his nearness. Eve had shucked her dress and heels in favor of her silk robe and bare feet. She was a tall woman by society's standards whereas Bond came a little above average height, which made them companionable in a sense. She could look him directly in the eye, but she still felt feminine. She needed no man to protect her because she had been trained to protect herself, but she couldn't deny the thrill in finding herself enshrined in a handsome man's arms.

Again, that wasn't the point. The point of the matter was, he was invading her space, crowding and, essentially corralling her deeper inside the hotel room. She was vaguely cognizant her gun was still in her hand, but her grip on it was growing limp by the second. She dropped it when her legs hit the sofa.

The breath rushed out of her in a huff when she and Bond fell on the couch. His weight was welcomed but she was feeling a bit put out. "Do we seriously need to be in this position for you to tell me everything you're telling me?"

His indescribably blue eyes darkened. "I do my best thinking when I'm lying down."

"Right."

"Can I finish?"

"Proceed."

Bond brushed a few of her curls off her forehead and resumed informing her of what he had learned.

Shamelessly Eve's nipples pebbled and pushed incessantly at the fabric covering them. Her pulse raced, heart began battering her ribcage. The crease between her brows deepened. Dread filled her at the same rate as exhilaration. Her thighs brushed against the fabric of his dress shirt as the heat between their bodies ratcheted up. It was beginning to get a little hard to think, but Eve managed. By the time Bond said all he had to say, she was able to say:

"You need to tell M."

"And I will. In due time." Bond sat up very much aware of the precarious position he was in. How could he not be aware of the pair of supple thighs that surrounded him? Eve's robe was open far wider than it had been initially, and rode up exposing the fact she was completely naked underneath. His cock stirred and his hands, having grown a mind of their own, slid lightly along the outside of her beautiful brown legs.

Reaching for her hands, he pulled her up. They were inexplicably close. He caught hints of her minty breath and perfume. Bond was at war. Eve had been right. He did have a villain's temporary flame to seduce but he wasn't ready to leave yet. Good thing he excelled at multitasking.

Eve squelched the urge to jump when Bond gently grasped her chin, bringing her closer, in range. She should stop this inevitability. Stop herself from joining the list, from being hazed into a sorority where hardly any survived. But dammit it had been _months_ since she fucked let alone kissed a man. She earned this. Wanted this. Even if it was wrong because they were colleagues. No one needed to know. This could stay between them. Conscience clear, Eve let nature take its course.

He moved forward slowly giving her time to back out of this. When she remained still, poised, tilting her chin upward silently inviting him in, it was all the encourage 007 needed. He prided himself on being a world-class kisser and he had wanted to taste Eve's lips from the moment he met her.

A countdown started in her head. By the time she reached one, Bond's lips were slanted over hers.

The Chinese were renowned for creating fireworks, but Eve would bet her entire savings that the original formula was undulating in her belly right this very moment. She got that full bottom lip of Bond's between her own and it was a wrap. The man devoured her, moving his mouth so sensually it made her toes curl. She thought she would get a peck at most, maybe even a little tongue, but no. What she was receiving was a meal and then some.

Blood drained from her head and filled that bundle of nerves that was stiffening with each passing second.

Bond hummed and the vibration of it was like sonar, rippling through her extremities, filling her chest cavity to the point she felt stuffed. But she wouldn't mind being stuffed in another manner. Unable to help herself, Eve ran her hands over his muscled arms, squeezed his chest before threading her nails through the blunt hairs on the nape of his neck. James really responded to that, jerking her closer and burying his tongue down her throat.

When they needed a breath, they took it. When they wanted more, they went for it. Her lips were thoroughly bee stung by the time Bond ended their snog panting a little, cheeks sporting a hint of pink.

They blinked at one another. The intensity of their gazes would have vaporized any who found themselves in close proximity. Bond pecked her forehead, the corner of her mouth, and in the end forced himself to get off the couch. If he stayed any longer, he knew where things would go. That didn't stop him from looking in the direction of the bedroom.

Eve drew her lips into her mouth in a poor effort to remoisten them. She stared down at the state of her robe and that she was practically flashing Bond. She covered herself and got to her feet as well, knees a little weak and wobbly. Things were quiet, the two of them assessing the other, saying so much without uttering a word. Perhaps a connection, the one haphazardly thrown together in Istanbul was strengthening. Maybe, just maybe, if they took things slow she could avoid the curse.

Okay, Eve don't read too much into this, she reproached.

"Do you still respect me?" Eve opted for levity to stave off awkwardness. She wasn't feeling embarrassed. Just a little (lot) horny. Bond needed to leave before she threw her entire career away just to rut on his prick. Of course thinking about it made her glance at the noticeable bulge tenting his trousers. Feminine pride coursed through her blood. She wasn't alone in being affected. If she rubbed her thighs together just right, it wouldn't take her long to detonate.

"It's because I respect you I'm taking you for a proper dinner once this is over…bearing I'm not killed. Or shot and presumed dead," Bond managed to say when he found two coherent thoughts to rub together. Eve was not dissimilar from her namesake—first woman to succumb to temptation, however _he_ was the one fighting being tempted. He wanted her. _Badly_. Unfortunately now wasn't the time.

Eve chuckled then sobered. "I'm holding you to that…It was…nice. Just now."

"Nice? I wouldn't say it was nice. Amazing, probably."

Whiskey colored eyes rolled but his flattery made her flush. "Go to work, Bond. And do what you can not to be killed."

Bond inclined his head. "Yes ma'am." He reached for her hand and gave her fingers an affectionate squeeze before kissing them.

Eve remained rooted to the spot and watched him leave. Alone, she covered her burning face and plopped down on the couch.

It was official. No other assignment would ever top this one.

 **A/N: This concludes things. Thank so much for reading. Any feedback you'd like to leave behind will be much appreciated.**


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